


Blood Quill

by Ilovecastiel18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-15 10:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19612489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilovecastiel18/pseuds/Ilovecastiel18
Summary: AU fifth-year. After McGonagall takes point from Harry for getting yet another week’s worth of detentions in the second week of school, she overhears him say “She’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m getting my hand sliced open every night!” and questions him about it. Harry’s a bit OOC. Complete.





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any characters used in this story, all recognizable names, locations, and characters are property of the wonderful JK Rowling, who was lovely enough to bless us with the Harry Potter books to become obsessed with as I have.

(The italics at the beginning of the story are quoted from Order of the Phoenix. My story starts when the italics end, but they were necessary to set up the plotline.)

……

Blood Quill

……

Chapter 1

……..

_“Miss Johnson, how dare you make such a racket in the Great Hall! Five points from Gryffindor!”_

_“But Professor — he’s gone and landed himself in detention again —”_

_“What’s this, Potter?” said Professor McGonagall sharply, rounding on Harry. “Detention? From whom?”_

_“From Professor Umbridge,” muttered Harry, not meeting Professor McGonagall’s beady, square-framed eyes._

_“Are you telling me,” she said, lowering her voice so that the group of curious Ravenclaws behind them could not hear, “that after the warning I gave you last Monday you lost your temper in Professor Umbridge’s class again?”_

_“Yes,” Harry muttered, speaking to the floor._

_“Potter, you must get a grip on yourself! You are heading for serious trouble! Another five points from Gryffindor!”_

_“But — what? Professor, no!” Harry said, furious at this injustice. “I’m already being punished by her, why do you have to take points as well?”_

_“Because detentions do not appear to have any effect on you whatsoever!” said Professor McGonagall tartly. “No, not another word of complaint, Potter! And as for you, Miss Johnson, you will confine your shouting matches to the Quidditch pitch in future or risk losing the team Captaincy!”_

_She strode back toward the staff table. Angelina gave Harry a look of deepest disgust and stalked away, upon which Harry flung himself onto the bench beside Ron, fuming._

_“She’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m having my hand sliced open every night! How is that fair, how?”_

“What did you just say Potter?” McGonagall whipped around, her eyes ablaze.

“I said many different things, Professor. To which are you referring to?” Harry asked, sarcasm dripping from his words.

McGonagall’s eyes narrowed, then swiftly glanced down at Harry’s hand, but the sleeve of his robe was covering it. “My office. Now.”

“But what about my classes, Professor?” Harry asked.

“You will be excused.” McGonagall replied curtly. She then turned swiftly and marched out of the Great Hall, Harry in her wake. He shot a worried look over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione before making his way out of the hall.

Once Harry entered her office, McGonagall shot a spell at the door, causing it to slam shut and lock.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, Potter. Explain what you meant by that statement in the Great Hall.” McGonagall snapped. She was standing behind her desk with her arms crossed. She looked very stern indeed.

“Which statement, Professor?” Harry asked sardonically.

“Don’t play games with me, Potter! What did you mean when you said, ‘She’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m having my hand sliced open every night!’?”

“I meant I thought it unfair that you were taking points from me when I was already dealing with detentions from Umbridge.” Harry responded.

“I figured that much, Potter. What did you mean by ‘I’m having my hand sliced open every night,’?” McGonagall replied curtly.

“Er…”

“Hand, Potter. Let me see your hand.” McGonagall snapped, coming out from behind her desk and holding her hand out. Harry reached his left hand out to her. She grabbed it and pulled up his sleeve. She sighed, a slight note of anger apparent within it. “I should have figured. The other one, Potter. You can’t fool me.”

“No really, Professor, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just angry. There’s nothing wrong with my hand.” Harry stuttered hurriedly.

“Your hand, Potter!” McGonagall cut across him sharply.

Harry sighed and held his right hand out for McGonagall to take, waiting for the explosion that was bound to happen.

McGonagall studied Harry’s worried expression for a moment before taking hold of his hand. She heard a sharp intake of breath from Harry. Figuring it hurt, for some unknown reason, she let go and simply placed his hand in hers, careful not to touch the back of it. She then grabbed ahold of his sleeve and pulled it up.

Harry knew she would be angry, but he was not prepared for McGonagall’s reaction to the cuts on the back of his hand caused by Umbridge’s special quill.

“I must not tell…WHAT?! HOW DID THIS GET ON THE BACK OF YOUR HAND, HARRY?!” McGonagall screamed.

“Um…well…” Harry stuttered.

“THAT EVIL TOAD! HOW DARE SHE DO THIS TO ONE OF MY STUDENTS! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN, HARRY?! ANSWER ME!” She continued to scream.

Harry tried to tug his hand away from hers but she grabbed hold, causing him to wince in pain. McGonagall was physically shaking with rage, but that didn’t stop her from noticing Harry’s wince and his sharp intake of breath, causing her to immediately let go of his hand.

“I’m so sorry, Harry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I shouldn’t have lost control like that, I apologize. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to one of the chairs that sat in front of her desk. Still shaken by her outburst, Harry sat. he was not used to his calm, collected Head of House losing control like that.

Instead of sitting behind her desk like usual, McGonagall sat in the seat next to Harry. “Harry, may I see your hand again. I promise I won’t grab it like I did earlier. I did not mean to hurt you.” She seemed unsure when she said this, as if she was afraid of being rejected.

Harry, having complete trust in his Head of House, obediently held out his hand and set it atop hers. While he had never wanted any of the staff members to find out about his detentions, he figured she had already seen, so there was no point in denying her the opportunity of looking at his hand again. She gently pulled up his sleeve again and examined his hand. This time, though Harry could see rage burning in her eyes, she did not start yelling, she just calmly examined his cut up, and swollen hand.

After a few moments of silence, McGonagall let go of his hand and looked up. She sighed. “Harry, can you explain to me exactly how those cuts got on the back of your hand?” She asked quietly.

“Professor, it’s no big deal, honestly. I don’t care. Just let it be.” Harry responded, with as must respect as he could imply.

“Harry, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what happened. What’s going on?” McGonagall replied, anger, once again, starting to color her words.

“I don’t need help Professor, just let it be. Please.” Harry pleaded.

“No, Potter. I will not allow a student in this school, especially one of my Gryffindors, be harmed in this manner. I don’t care if it was a student, a professor, or the Minister for Magic himself that did it. I will not tolerate this. Now what happened?” McGonagall became her stern self once again, but Harry could see the care and anger burning in her eyes, and could hear the sadness and hurt underlying the stern tone.

Harry sighed. “Well, Professor. It’s my detentions with Umbridge. She has this…uh…special quill she makes me write lines with. Every time I write ‘I must not tell lies’ it’s etched into the back of my hand. It used to heal, but I’ve written so many lines now that it no longer heals, the words stay and they bleed long into the night. Hermione has given me essence of murtlap to soothe the pain but it doesn’t make the words go away. I don’t think they ever will now. But I don’t want you to get involved and risk your career, Professor. I’m not worth it.” Harry explained.

McGonagall sat quietly through the whole explanation. She stayed silent, and deadly calm, but Harry could see that she was getting angrier by the second. He could tell by her eyes. Even though McGonagall could hide her emotions extremely well from her face, she had always been able to do this exceptionally well, her eyes always conveyed all. Not unlike Dumbledore.

However, when Harry started asking her not to get involved and saying he wasn’t worth the effort, she cut him off. “Stop, Harry. I will not allow you to demean yourself simply because the Ministry and that evil toad decided they didn’t like you. It’s very hard not to like you, believe it or not. Do not say you are not worth me risking my career to help, because you are. Very much so.” Harry could still see that McGonagall’s blood was boiling, however she stayed very calm through her little speech.

“She…” McGonagall started to say, but she seemed so overwhelmed with anger that she could not get the words out. After a moment of struggling to control her rage, she continued. “She used a blood quill on you, Harry.” She finished. She seemed to want to continue, but she was unable to, she was seething.

“I’m…I’m not really sure what that is, Professor. In any case, I can handle it. No problem. Thank you for your concern, but it’s all right, really.” Harry made to leave, but was stopped when McGonagall laid a hand on his arm.

“Stop. I am quite aware that you can handle this, Harry. Merlin knows you’ve handled a lot more. What with You-Know-Who torturing you last year…” she started. She paused for a moment to regain her composer. “However, what she made you use to write your lines – a blood quill – is _extremely_ illegal. Even the Minister himself will not be able to get her out of punishment. She may not have to go to Azkaban, because of the _Minister,_ ” She put so much venom in the word “Minister” that Harry was visibly taken aback, “However she will most certainly lose her post here at Hogwarts. We must go see the Headmaster.”

“No!” Harry tugged his arm out of her grip. “Honestly, Professor, we don’t need to bother Professor Dumbledore with this. He doesn’t need to know. I’m fine.” He made to leave again.

“Harry, he must be made aware of this. It is not up to you. Follow me.” And with that McGonagall swept from her office into the corridor. Knowing he had no choice, though he desperately wanted to go to class, for the first time in his life, rather than go to the Headmaster’s office, Harry followed.

“Professor, really. Does he really need to know?” Harry pleaded desperately.

“Yes, Potter. Do you know of anyone else who has been made to use a blood quill by _Professor_ Umbridge?” she asked, still visibly seething. He all but spat out the word “professor.” She seemed to have calmed down a bit, but she was still extremely angry.

“Um…well…yes, Professor. I know that Lee Jordan has been made to use the quill to write lines, as well as a few others. But still...” Harry replied. He was still desperately trying to avoid going to Dumbledore’s office.

“Enough, Potter. We’re going. As far as I know, only Professor Dumbledore is in his office currently, but he may want to call in the other Heads of Houses, to make them aware of the situation, as well as Madam Pomfrey, to attend to your hand. No arguments. You are to tell him exactly what has been happening so he can take appropriate action. Do I make myself clear?” She interrupted.

Though Harry was dead-set against going to Dumbledore’s office, he knew it wasn’t up for debate, so he conceded. “Yes, Professor.”

After that, Harry and McGonagall made their way to Dumbledore’s office in silence. All that was heard was the distant rumble from noisy classrooms and Peeves smashing things a few floors above. Sooner than Harry would have liked, they reached the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster’s office.

“Acid pops.” McGonagall snapped at the gargoyle. It seemed to jump out of the way very fast, faster than usual. _Even stone gargoyles knew to steer clear of an enraged Professor McGonagall,_ Harry thought to himself.

McGonagall and Harry made their way up the spiral staircase. When they made it to the door, McGonagall pounded it once with her fist and then barged in without waiting for a reply. What came as a shock was the presence of Severus Snape in the office.

“Minerva.” He said shortly. “I see privacy is not something you value anymore.”

“Shut up, Severus. This is more important than your complaints about Harry.” McGonagall snapped.

Snape seemed taken aback by McGonagall being short with him and telling him to shut up, but he didn’t say anything. He just sat back in his chair and listened, with a scowl on his face.

“Albus, why the hell did you allow that evil, twisted bitch to get a post here?!” McGonagall was on the verge of yelling.

“Minerva!” Dumbledore was shocked at her anger and language.

“Don’t, Albus. That bitch is using blood quill on our students during detention!” McGonagall yelled. As she did this, she grabbed Harry’s arm and thrust it at Dumbledore, so the light from his desk lamp threw the cuts on the back of his hand into strong relief. The words “I must not tell lies” were clearly visible in the back of his hand, cracked and bleeding again.

Dumbledore stared at Harry’s hand for a full five minutes before he even moved. He just sat in his chair, leaning forward, with his fingers intertwined and covering his nose and mouth. All he did was blink and breathe for five minutes straight. Not even a muscle twitched.

Snape, on the other hand, did not remain still. He leaned forward in his chair at first, because he could not see Harry’s hand from where he sat. when he got a good enough look at his hand, however, and was able to read the words etched into Harry’s skin, he growled and threw himself from his chair, pacing back and forth by the office door. He continuously muttered under his breath while he did so, but he was so quiet that nobody could hear what he was saying.

Finally, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and turned to look at Fawkes. He seemed unable to look at Harry’s hand any longer. Harry was surprised that he didn’t see anger in Dumbledore’s eyes. All he saw was sadness.

What Dumbledore moved, it seemed to pull Snape out of his trance. He stepped forward and gently took Harry’s hand from McGonagall. Harry was more than a little shocked at how gentle Snape was being. He seemed to be taking a lot of care not to hurt Harry, which surprised him, since he thought for sure Snape would want to cause him as much pain as possible.

Snape slowly turned Harry’s hand this way and that so he could observe what damage had been done. “What have you done to your hand medically? Did you bandage it or do anything for the pain?” He asked quietly. He didn’t seem to want to disturb Dumbledore or McGonagall, who were both sitting in their respective chairs, staring off into the distance. McGonagall had occupied the chair that Snape had recently vacated. The only difference was that McGonagall was seething, and Dumbledore just looked sad.

“I’ve bandaged it a couple times, well Hermione has, when it was bleeding badly. I didn’t want anyone to notice that the back of my hand was bleeding profusely. I’ve also dipped it in a bowl of essence of murtlap a few times, also courtesy of Hermione. I…uh…think she may have gotten it from…uh…your stores, sir. Please don’t punish her, Professor, she was only trying to help me. I was in quite a bit of pain.” Harry replied.

“It’s quite all right, Potter. I’m not going to punish her. It was actually quite a brilliant idea to use essence of murtlap for the pain. She really is very bright.” Snape responded. “We should probably take you to Madam Pomfrey, Potter.”

“Professor McGonagall wanted me to explain everything to Professor Dumbledore, sir.”

“Then we’ll have to take you afterward. There is a good chance that this could get infected if she doesn’t give you some potions and bandage this up. Should we get their attention?” Snape explained.

“Probably, sir. I feel I should probably get to class at some point.” Harry smirked as he said this, even though he dreaded having to explain it all again, especially to Dumbledore and Snape. Harry cleared his throat. “Professors!”

McGonagall’s head snapped up. “So sorry, Harry. I must have zoned out. I have a few ideas for that toad…please, sit.” She conjured up an extra chair, since three people had to sit in front of Dumbledore’s desk, and there were only two chairs. Harry took a seat in the conjured chair, which sat between Snape and McGonagall. Snape sat down in the remaining chair.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harry called. He seemed to still be in a trance. He reached over the desk and tapped Dumbledore lightly on the shoulder. “Sir?”

This seemed to bring Dumbledore to his senses. “Sorry, Harry. Can you…can you explain what exactly happened to your hand?’” He asked. He still seemed exceptionally sad, though a hint of extreme rage was starting to shine through.

“Well, for all the detentions I’ve had with Professor Umbridge, she’s made me write lines. Every time, I’ve had to write “I must not tell lies” until she told me I could leave. She has this special quill, I think Professor McGonagall called it a blood quill, that she makes me write with so the words will be etched into the back of my hand.” There was a sharp intake of breath from both Dumbledore and Snape at the mention of blood quills.

Dumbledore seemed, yet again, to be at a loss for words, so Snape decided to ask questions. “How many detentions have you had with her, Potter? How many times have you been forced to use a blood quill, and for how long each time?” He asked. There was a large quantity of venom in his voice. Dumbledore seemed to still be listening, so Harry answered.

“I’ve had two full weeks of detention with her. She makes me stay for about four to five hours each time. I’ve got homework up to my eyeballs because I have to stay so long.”

Snape was now having trouble keeping his anger at bay. “Do you know of any other students who have been forced to use blood quills in detention with her?” his voice was shaking.

“As far as I know, everyone who gets detentions from her has to use the quill. I know of people who have gotten detention from her from every House except Slytherin, though there may be some from there too. I let Lee Jordan borrow my bowl of essence of murtlap just the other day.” Harry replied.

Snape suddenly whipped around to face Dumbledore. “Headmaster, we must do something!” his voice wasn’t nearly as smooth as usual. Harry was having a hard time understanding why he cared. No Slytherins had been hurt, as far as he knew, surely Snape didn’t care about anyone else?

Dumbledore was staring at his desk, seemingly in a state of total shock, and unyielding anger.

“Headmaster!” Snape yelled.

“Sorry, Severus. I just…Minerva how did you find out about this?” He suddenly asked.

A bit taken aback, McGonagall replied, “I overheard him make a comment in the Great Hall at breakfast this morning along the lines of ‘she’s taken points off Gryffindor because I’m getting my hand sliced open every night!’ Naturally, I brought him to my office and questioned him, finally examining his hand and finding those cuts.”

“Hmm.” Dumbledore lapsed back into silence. He seemed on the verge of either crying or putting his fist through the wall. Neither option seemed good to Harry.

“Headmaster, what are we to do about this?!” Snape yelled.

“Please, Severus. I’m thinking. This is going to be very hard to deal with, as Dolores is the Minister’s pet toad.” Harry smiled when Dumbledore said this. “We will have to proceed very carefully. Minerva, I would like you to please escort Harry to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey can examine his hand. When she finishes, please come back here, along with Harry. Severus, if you could please go and retrieve Filius and Pomona, so all the Heads of Houses can be made aware of this. I am going to contact Sirius, Remus, Molly, and Arthur. I feel they should know of this. If you please.” He gestured toward the door.

At once, everyone stood and moved toward the door. Snape headed in the direction of the Charms classroom while McGonagall and Harry turned in the opposite direction, toward the hospital wing. They didn’t make conversation, as McGonagall was still overwhelmed with anger toward Umbridge.

Once they made inside the wing, McGonagall called for Madam Pomfrey. “Poppy! Can you come here please?!” she yelled curtly. Madam Pomfrey bustled out from behind the curtains drawn around a bed. Harry heard soft moaning coming from behind them. Madam Pomfrey saw him looking.

“Quidditch injury.” She said shortly, but not unkindly. “What’s the problem, Minerva?” she directed this question at McGonagall.

“Well, Potter here has a few cuts on the back of his hand that we feel could possibly become infected if they are not attended to.” She answered.

“We?” Madam Pomfrey looked confused as to why more than one person had opinions on the back of Harry’s hand.

“Professors Dumbledore, Snape, and I.”

“Oh. Well, all right. Can I see your hand, Potter?” Madam Pomfrey asked kindly. Harry sighed deeply and held out his hand for Madam Pomfrey to examine.

She grabbed his hand and tugged the sleeve up to get a look at the cuts. Harry saw many emotions flash across her face at the sight of the words carved into the back of his hand, however she did not mention it.

“Right. Well I have a few potions I should apply to this. I don’t think a spell can be used to heal these, as a dark artifact seems to have created them. I have some cream that will be able to prevent infection, as well as a potion for the pain and some essence of murtlap to use for a half hour every night. I’ll bandage this up as well, to prevent germs getting into it. I’m afraid that is all I will be able to do. Give me a moment to round up my supplies. Minerva, will you come help me?” She said this with a lot of strain in her voice, evidently emotional.

Harry knew full well that Madam Pomfrey could have summoned those things using her wand, however he figured she had questions for McGonagall, so he just quietly sat down on the nearest bed and examined his hand. It really did look terrible.

Meanwhile, over at the supply cabinets on the other side of the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey was urgently whispering to McGonagall.

“Why was Potter using a blood quill?!” she whispered as she gathered up the cream and bandages.

“Professor Umbridge, it seems, has been making students write lines using a blood quill for her detentions. Rest assured, Poppy, it is being handled. Severus is currently retrieving Filius and Pomona so they can be apprised of the situation. In any case, Umbridge will not be here much longer. Even her precious Minister will not be able to get her off the charges and keep her here. She will at least have to leave. Thank Merlin.” McGonagall smiled, though it was very strained, and grabbed the potion Madam Pomfrey pointed out. They then made their way back over to Harry, who was sitting on a bed examining his hand.

“Here, Potter.” Madam Pomfrey gently grabbed his hand and spread the thick cream over the cuts. She then waved her wand, causing the cream to be absorbed into his hand. She waved her wand again, setting a charm on the bandage so they would keep all unwanted particles out of the injured area. “Drink this, Potter.” She motioned to McGonagall, who gave Harry the potion. He gulped it down.

“Since I’m assuming you will be showing Professors Flitwick and Sprout your hand, put these on afterward. Minerva, you know the spell, correct?” Madam Pomfrey asked. McGonagall nodded. “Good. I have placed a germ-repelling charm on the bandages, and you will be able to take them off and put them back on at will. Here is a small jar of cream, put it on once in the morning before breakfast and once at night before bed. You don’t have to make it absorb as I did, just put the bandages on once you spread it.” She handed the bandages to McGonagall.

“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” He said politely.

“It’s no trouble, dear. You are free to go. If anything happens with the cuts or the bandages or anything, come back here at once and let me know.” She replied.

“I will.” Madam Pomfrey smiled at Harry and summoned some essence of murtlap from the shelves behind them.

“Use this for a half hour every night before bed. It will sooth the cuts. Have a good day, Potter.” She smiled again and motioned toward the door.

“Wait for me out there, Potter. I would like a private word with Madam Pomfrey. I will be out in a moment.” McGonagall said.

“Yes, Professor.” Harry made his way out in the hallway, making sure the door was shut behind him before shoving the bottle of essence of murtlap in his pocket and taking out his wand.

Back in the hospital wing, McGonagall was whispering to Madam Pomfrey.

“You can’t say anything about this to anyone, Poppy. Albus, Severus, and I already know, and Pomona and Filius will shortly, but nobody else can find out until action is taken. We will, no doubt, have more students who have had this happen to them. All Heads of Houses are going to go into their common rooms, once they are made aware of the situation, and find out who has had detentions with Dolores and bring them to you once we update Pomona and Filius. Do you have enough supplies?”

“Probably. Depends how many students I need to tend to.” Madam Pomfrey replied.

“Shouldn’t be more than thirty.” McGonagall responded.

“Then I have enough supplies. I won’t say anything, trust me, but I’m so angry!”

“I am too. I yelled and swore at Albus and Severus earlier.” McGonagall replied. “Best to just calm down for a bit. No one must know until we get rid of the toad.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“Thank you. Now I must be off. We will be back in an hour or so.”

“See you then, Minerva.” Madam Pomfrey made her way back over to the curtained bed while McGonagall made her way to the door and exited, to find Harry leaning against the wall twiddling his wand.

“Back to the Headmaster’s office, Potter.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters used in this story, all recognizable names, locations, and characters are property of the wonderful JK Rowling, who was lovely enough to bless us with the Harry Potter books to become obsessed with as I have.

……

Blood Quill

……

Chapter 2

……..

Once Snape, Harry, and McGonagall left the office, Dumbledore left his desk and made his way over to his fireplace. He was seething, and extremely sad, but he had to let Sirius, Remus, Molly, and Arthur know what had been happening. While he felt extremely guilty for letting it happen, they had the right to know.

He sighed and grabbed a handful of floo powder, throwing it into the fire. It instantly turned green. Dumbledore got down on his hands and knees and stuck his face into the fire. “Number 12, Grimmauld Place!” His head whipped through fireplace after fireplace while his knees stayed firmly on the office floor. Finally, after about a minute and a half of whizzing past the fireplaces of many wizarding families, Dumbledore appeared in the fire of Grimmauld Place’s basement kitchen.

“Sirius! Remus! Molly! Arthur!” he yelled into the building. He heard rushing footsteps as four people ran from wherever they were in the house to the kitchen. Luckily, today was Arthur’s day off.

“What’s happened, Professor?!” Remus asked worriedly.

“You don’t have to be worried. Harry isn’t in danger. Will you four come to my office in about twenty minutes? I have some…well…news to share with you, but I must talk to my Head of Houses first. It will only take about twenty minutes. Are you four up to that?” Dumbledore asked politely.

“If it concerns Harry, absolutely, we’ll be there.” Arthur answered.

“Thanks, Arthur. See you all in twenty minutes.” With that Dumbledore pulled his head out of the fireplace and made his way back behind his desk, just as Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick made their way into the office.

“Please have a seat. Minerva and Harry will be joining us shortly.” Dumbledore waved his wand and conjured two more chairs so there were five in front of his desk. The three professors took their seats, curiosity etched onto the faces of all but Snape’s.

A few minutes later, McGonagall and Harry entered the office and took seats in the remaining two chairs.

“All right. Now that everyone is here…” Dumbledore started. “There’s a…predicament. It seems Professor Umbridge has been using illegal artifacts during her detentions with students. She has been forcing students to write lines using a blood quill. Harry?” Dumbledore motioned toward Harry, who, with a deep sigh, lifted his hand and showed it to all the professors. He heard sharp intakes of breath from both Flitwick and Sprout. “Harry has said that he’s heard of victims in all of the Houses except Slytherin. I would like all of you, including you, Severus, just in case, to go to your common rooms and find anyone who has had detentions with Dolores. Bring them to the hospital wing so Madam Pomfrey can tend to their hands, then bring me a list of all the students you find, along with what words are…carved…into their hands. I know this is distressing, but we must keep it as quiet as possible. We also must stay calm for the students. I will be handling things with the Ministry to get here removed from the school as soon as possible. That will be all, thank you. Harry, can you stay, please? I will alert Professor Binns of your excused absence, even though he probably didn’t notice you were gone.” Dumbledore gave a little wink as he said this, though it looked strained. Harry also noticed the customary twinkle in his eye was nonexistent, at the current moment.

One by one, the four Heads of Houses left the office, all with varying degrees of shock mixed with anger apparent on their faces. It seemed they had questions, but for now would wait so they could take care of their students. Once the door closed behind Snape, Dumbledore spoke.

“I have alerted Sirius, Remus, Molly, and Arthur that there has been an issue. I have not told them exactly what has happened, though. I wanted you to be able to explain in your own way. They will be here shortly. Until then, can you tell me exactly what happened?”

“All right, Professor. I have one question though. Can you please make sure Sirius doesn’t go bursting into the rest of the castle trying to find Umbridge and curse her or something? That would turn out rather poorly in his case.” Harry replied.

“Rest assured, Harry, he will not be able to get to her. I have it covered. He will not be able to leave this office, and when they get here I will cast both a silencing and locking spell on the door so no one can get in or hear what’s going on inside.” Dumbledore smiled, a bit of the customary twinkle making its way back into his bright blue eyes. “Now can you explain to me exactly what happened?”

“Well, I’m sure you heard the story of how I got detention the first time, right sir?” Dumbledore nodded. “So, she assigned me a week’s worth of detentions for it. When I got to her office that night, she had a little desk set up for me with a pad of paper. She said I would be doing lines. When I went to grab my quill out of my bag, she stopped me and said she had her own, special quill that she was going to have me use. I shrugged and released my bag. When she gave it to me and told me to write ‘I must not tell lies’ I realized she hadn’t given me ink. When I pointed this out she said, ‘Oh you won’t be needing any ink, dear.’ I asked how many lines and she said, ‘Oh as many as it takes for the message to sink in.’ So, I got to work writing. It didn’t take me long to realize that the quill was cutting open the back of my hand and taking my blood to use as ink, but I pressed on. I didn’t even flinch because I didn’t want to give her the satisfactory. I didn’t want her to win. And I kept going back, evening after evening, cutting the back of my hand open repeatedly. When Ron and Hermione found out, they demanded I tell you, but I wouldn’t because I didn’t want her to win. Hermione got some essence of murtlap for me to soothe my hand after the detentions. I got another week of them last Monday. I’m hoping not to get more today. You already know how Professor McGonagall found out about them.” Harry explained. Dumbledore didn’t interrupt once, he seemed lost in concentration.

When Harry finished, Dumbledore got up and paced back and forth behind his desk. After a few minutes, he stopped abruptly and turned toward Harry. “Harry, we might need you as a witness if there is a trial, which there probably will be, since Dolores is the Minister’s pet toad. Would you be willing to do this?” Dumbledore asked.

“Of course, sir. But will they take me seriously?”

“I’ll make sure they do.” With this, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. The minute he reached his seat, the fireplace burst into green flames and Sirius stepped out, followed by Remus, Molly, and Arthur. “Hello everyone. Please have a seat.” Dumbledore gestured toward the four empty seats in front of his desk, formerly occupied by the four Heads of Houses.

“What’s going on, Albus?” Sirius didn’t move toward the chair.

Dumbledore sighed. “Please, Sirius. Harry is fine, as you can clearly see. Sit, I insist.” Sirius moved toward the only remaining seat, between Harry and Remus, but didn’t relax into it. He, along with everyone else who had just entered the office, was on the edge of his seat. Dumbledore sighed again. “Harry, care to explain everything. I daresay you will be able to do it better than I.” He waved his wand toward the door, out of sight for anyone except Harry.

Reassured, since Dumbledore had just sealed the door, Harry began to explain. “Um…well…it’s Professor Umbridge. She’s…um…been making me use this special quill to write lines in her detentions. According to Professor McGonagall, it’s…uh…called a…a blood quill.” He stuttered. He really didn’t want to tell them all, because he knew they would freak out, but he saw no way out of the matter.

He heard all four of them breath in sharply. After a moment of shock, Sirius jumped up and started pacing, a murderous look on his face. Molly started crying silently, but no one really noticed. Arthur jumped up shortly after Sirius and started pacing a little way away from him. Remus moved one seat over, into the seat previously occupied by Sirius. Also with a murderous look on his face, he gently grabbed Harry’s right hand and examined it. Harry had never seen him look so angry. He was starting to see the wolf in Remus reflected through his human face.

Harry turned and looked over his shoulder while Remus examined his hand. Dumbledore have moved out from behind his desk to sit beside Molly. He was trying to comfort her. Both Arthur and Sirius were still pacing somewhat near the office door. Harry was surprised Sirius had yet to make a run for it.

He took a closer look at Arthur. He looked absolutely livid. His face was redder than usual and he was grimacing. Usually, he had a kind, though tired, smile on his face, but not now. For the first time, Harry really saw Arthur’s protective father side. He had seen it before, but not with this much ferocity; none of his kids had been all that seriously hurt before, except when Ginny was possessed by Voldemort, but Harry wasn’t there when Arthur found out, so he hadn’t seen his reaction. He looked an extremely protective father, ready to fight to the death for his as-good-as son. Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward him.

Now that he had examined everyone else, Harry turned back to Remus, who was still carefully examining his hand. He saw Remus turn simultaneously livid and depressed. It was an odd experience. Remus quietly let go of Harry’s hand, still looking toward the floor. After a moment, he looked up into Harry’s eyes.

“Harry…” he started sadly.

“I’m fine, Remus, really. You don’t have to get worried. And this can get Umbridge removed from the school, which could make this very much worth it.” Harry smiled at him, but it wasn’t returned.

“This shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” Remus stated. He dropped his head into his hands.

“Remus…” Harry reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Really I’m all right.” Harry was bewildered to say the least.

“If I hadn’t quite your third year, Voldemort wouldn’t be back and this wouldn’t have happened. This is my fault.” Remus’s voice cracked as he said this.

“Remus, this isn’t your fault.” Harry moved his hand from Remus’s shoulder to his knee, giving it a slight shake. “It’s not your fault. I’m not at all mad at you. It’s okay.”

Remus sniffed and lifted his head out of his hands. “Thank you, Harry, but I could have prevented this. I’m so terribly sorry.”

“While there is nothing to apologize for, Remus, I know you will argue with me on this until I agree, so I will just say you are forgiven. But I don’t blame you. Seriously, that…woman…did this all herself, and now she’s making one of my only good father figures question himself. Honestly, you, Sirius, and Arthur are the only good father figures I’ve ever had, and that evil bitch is making you all question yourselves. Well don’t. You aren’t to blame.” Harry replied.

“Thank you, Harry.” Though Harry could tell Remus was still doubtful, he counted that as a win. He squeezed Remus’s knee and stood, making his way over to Arthur.

“Mr. Weasley?” He asked, trying to get his attention. Arthur snapped out of his trance at once.

“Harry, are you all right? I sweat to Merlin, that woman is going to get what’s coming to her…” he began muttering under his breath.

“I’m fine, Mr. Weasley. Are you?” Harry replied.

“Yes, of course…well no actually. That bitch force you to use a blood quill Harry!” Mr. Weasley yelled. Harry glanced over his shoulder. It seemed Remus had taken up Dumbledore’s task of calming Molly, while Dumbledore was lost in thought, back in his desk chair, idly stroking Fawkes, who had landed on his lap. Harry turned back to Arthur in shock. He had never heard him utter a single swear word. Ever.

“I’m fine, Mr. Weasley. Really. Thank you for your concern though.” Harry paused, choosing his next words very carefully. “I’ve never really had a father figure in my life. Uncle Vernon is nothing to me, I’ve always considered myself alone when it comes to parental figures. I now see that I do have a mother and father, even if I’m not related to them by blood. Thank you for being the father that I never got the chance to have, Mr. Weasley.” He finished.

Arthur stared at Harry for a few seconds, a blank look on his face, before grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into a tight hug. Apparently, that was a Weasley trait. “Thank you, Harry.” Arthur whispered roughly into his ear. “Since I met you, I decided I would consider you one of my own. I’m glad you feel the same way toward us.” Arthur released Harry and gave him a small smile before wiping a tear from his eye and making his way over toward Molly, who was still crying.

Sirius was still pacing by the door. Harry walked over to him.

“Sirius?” he tried to get his attention. Unlike Arthur, Sirius didn’t snap to attention when his name was called, he continued pacing. “Sirius? Are you all right?” Harry stepped in front of Sirius so he could no longer pace back and forth. This got his attention.

“Hm? No, I’m not all right, Harry. How could that evil bitch do that to you?!” Sirius yelled.

“Calm down, Sirius. I’m all right, really.” Harry put his hand on Sirius’s shoulder to calm him down and bring him out of his thoughts. The problem was, he used his right hand, which meant, when Sirius glanced down at his hand, he saw the cuts etched into the skin on the back of Harry’s hand. His eyes went wide and he immediately pulled Harry into a rib-crushing hug, not unlike the hugs he got from Hagrid.

“How could she do that?! IT’S ILLEGAL!” Sirius screamed. Harry winced, as Sirius’s mouth was right by his ear.

“Please, Sirius, calm down. Really, I’m okay. It doesn’t even hurt that bad. Honest.” Harry pulled away from the hug and gave Sirius a reassuring smile. Sirius still seemed seconds away from running out the door and cursing Umbridge into oblivion, however he sat down in his vacated chair to try and calm himself. He wanted to hear more, therefore he would curse her later.

Harry walked over to Arthur and Molly, glancing over his shoulder along the way. Dumbledore was still stroking Fawkes, sitting behind his desk. Remus and Sirius were deep in conversation.

“Mr. Weasley…” he started.

“Please, Harry, call me Arthur. There’s no need for such formalities.” Arthur cut across him.

“Okay Mr. – Arthur. Can I speak to Mrs. Weasley, please?” He asked politely.

“I’m sure she would prefer you call her Molly, Harry. And yes, I feel talking to you would calm her down better than talking to me will. In any case, I need to have a word with Dumbledore.” He stood.

“Arthur,” Harry placed a hand on his shoulder as he made his way toward Dumbledore. “Don’t be too hard on him. He was forced to give her the position and he had no idea what she was doing. He’s not to blame for this.”

“But Harry, you were being harmed by a teacher. You especially should have been under close supervision. This wouldn’t have happened if Dumbledore had kept a better eye on you.” Arthur argued.

“Maybe, but it’s still not his fault. The Minister forced Umbridge onto the school, and Dumbledore had other things to be going on with rather than supervise me at every moment. I’m not mad at him.” Harry replied. “And when I told him, at the command of Professor McGonagall, he was really upset. Please don’t upset him any more. Talk to him, but please don’t accuse him or anything. It really isn’t his fault.”

“You’re so kind, Harry. I won’t accuse him. Thank you for explaining. You really are a very good person.” Arthur patted Harry on the shoulder and made his way over to Dumbledore.

Reassured, Harry sat down in the chair next to Molly. She was still crying. “Mrs. Weasley?” He whispered. He placed his hand over hers. “I’m fine, Mrs. Weasley. Please don’t be upset.”

“How could I not be upset, Harry?” she whispered through her tears. “You’re like another son to me, and you’re being harmed by someone who is supposed to be helping you.” She started crying harder.

Harry stood, reaching for Molly’s free hand with his, so he was holding both of her hands. He then pulled her up to her feet. Without saying anything, Harry stepped forward and hugged Molly, causing her to sob even harder.

“Molly, you’re the mother I never got the chance to have. I never had a family until I met you guys. Thank you.” Harry whispered in her ear. After a few more minutes, Molly’s sobs subsided and she pulled away from Harry, sitting down in her vacated seat. Harry smiled at her and moved back over to his.

Now, everyone was in their former seats.

“Let me just take a moment to say that I am so terribly sorry this happened. I should have kept a closer eye on Harry. For this, I cannot apologize enough. Dolores Umbridge will be removed from this school and tried for her crimes, I assure you. I will make sure Harry comes to no further harm. I may visit Grimmauld Place at some point in the future to discuss this further with you, but for now I must, regrettably, ask that you leave. I have my Heads of Houses coming back with lists of all students who have been harmed by Dolores, and it would come as quite a shock to Filius and Pomona if Sirius Black was sitting in my office when they did. Again, I am terribly sorry this happened.” Dumbledore looked extremely sad again.

“Stop, Professor.” Harry growled. Everyone looked up at him, shocked. “Stop blaming yourself. Umbridge was forced upon this school, you could not prevent it. And not only that, but you had absolutely no idea what was going on. You had much more important things to be going on with than supervising me every minute of the day. This isn’t your fault.”

“But,” Dumbledore started to protest.

“With all due respect, Professor, this may be the only time in history that you have had a stupid thought run through your mind. You are one of the smartest, brightest, and wisest wizards in history. How could you even toy with the idea that any of this is your fault?” Harry interrupted.

While everyone else in the room seemed shocked that such a phrase escaped Harry’s lips, especially directed at Dumbledore, Harry’s mentor, Dumbledore just looked sad.

“It is.”

“No, it’s not. Stop letting these false ideas run through your head, Professor. This isn’t your fault, and any thought to the contrary, though expected, is entirely false, and rather insulting. The only person to blame for Umbridge’s actions is Umbridge herself.” Harry stated, hints of anger coloring his words.

“Thank you, Harry.”

With that, everybody except Dumbledore stood and made their way over to the fireplace. Arthur left first. He turned and briefly hugged Harry before grabbing a handful of floo powder and throwing it in the fire. He shouted, “Number 12, Grimmauld Place!” and was gone with a whoosh.

Molly followed. She also gave Harry a hug, but it was much longer and tighter than the one he got from Arthur. She then turned and left the same way as Arthur.

Next went Sirius. He gave Harry a brief, one-armed hug before leaving very quickly. Harry had a feeling he didn’t want to lose his cool in front of him.

Now only Remus was left of the group. “Harry, please contact me if anything happens, anything at all. Here…” Remus handed Harry a small mirror he had taken out of his pocket. “This is a two-way mirror, I have the other one. I think Sirius gave you one to contact him as well, though I wouldn’t advise you to contact him. I say this with the fear that he will show up here and start cursing people should he find out you are being harmed. Very little stopped him running into the castle today when he found out. If you need anything, say my name into this and I will be alerted. Anything at all. I’m serious.”

“Thank you, Remus.” Harry stepped forward and hugged Remus, wrapping his arms around his waist. This shocked Remus. Yes, he was close to Harry, but he wasn’t the Weasleys and he wasn’t Sirius. He never thought Harry would want to hug _him_. Regardless, he got over his shock quickly, and hugged Harry back just as tightly.

After a moment, Harry released Remus and gave him a warm smile, which was returned. At that, Remus threw some floo powder into the fireplace and left. Harry made his way back to his seat in front of Dumbledore’s desk. He cleared his throat.

“Professor, this isn’t your fault.”

“What gives you the idea that I still believe it is?” Dumbledore asked, looking down at his finger stroking Fawkes. “You have already made it blatantly clear that it is not, at least in your eyes.”

“I know you, Professor Dumbledore. I know that you believe that this is your fault. That you could have prevented this. But you couldn’t have. You couldn’t have stopped the Minister from forcing Umbridge onto the school, and I was making sure you didn’t see my hand. You were the last person I wanted to find out, because I knew you would blame yourself. You had no idea what was going on because I didn’t tell you, so there was no way you could have prevented it. Please believe me, Professor.” Harry responded.

“Thank you, Harry.” While Harry could tell that Dumbledore was still not convinced of his innocence in the matter, he knew there was nothing else he could do. He decided he would wait in silence for the Heads of Houses.

After a few minutes, Dumbledore started.

“Harry, do you have your invisibility cloak?’ he asked mildly.

A bit confused, Harry nodded.

“If you could, would you mind going over near the fireplace and covering yourself with it so you cannot be seen?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

“Of course, sir. May I ask why?” Harry replied.

“It seems Dolores found out something is going on. She is on her way up here with the Heads of Houses.”

In a flash, Harry had his cloak out of his bag. He threw his bag over his shoulder and sprinted over near the fireplace, throwing the cloak over his as he did so. He made sure his feet couldn’t be seen before making himself as comfortable as he could, so he wouldn’t be tempted to move when Umbridge was in the office. He saw Dumbledore quickly vanish the extra chairs in front of his desk with his wand. He then continued to stroke Fawkes, who was still perched on his lap.

After a moment of tense silence, there was a small knock on the office door.

“Enter.” Dumbledore replied calmly.

The door opened and in walked McGonagall, visibly seething, followed by Flitwick, who was shaking slightly. Then Sprout walked in, her fists balled up at her sides, followed by Snape, who looked as calm and collected as ever. Then in walked Umbridge, with her nasty little smile resting on her face.

“Professor Dumbledore, what is going on here?’ Umbridge asked.

“I have asked my Heads of Houses up here to discuss a few things, Dolores.” Dumbledore replied simply.

“And what, may I ask, are you discussing?” Umbridge asked in her high, girlish voice. Harry felt a strong urge to run out from under his cloak and strangle her, but controlled himself. He knew it wouldn’t be the brightest idea, since Umbridge was under the Minister’s thumb. Plus, it would cause a lot of questions to be raised, him being found hiding out in Dumbledore’s office. He kept his cool.

“Detentions.” Harry started when Dumbledore said this, as did the Heads of Houses. Even Snape looked mildly surprised and worried at the route the conversation was taking.

“It has come to my attention that students are skipping class, so I asked my Heads of Houses to come up here to find out what students have ben skipping and decide on a course of action.” Dumbledore lied.

 _He is really very good at this,_ Harry thought.

“Do you have any idea why Potter is not in class, Professor?” Umbridge asked. Harry could hear her cold dislike of Dumbledore underlying her false, girlish laugh.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea, Dolores. Perhaps he is skipping like many other students have been. History of Magic is really a very boring subject, maybe he is using the time to sleep in, or else catch up on some homework.”

Harry saw Umbridge’s eyes sweep over the room, most likely in search of Harry’s foot of the tail of his robe. _So, she thinks I’m spending my time in here, plotting against the Ministry with Dumbledore rather than being in class,_ Harry thought.

“Right. I’m watching, Dumbledore.” Umbridge said shortly. She turned and stomped out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

After a few tense moments, Dumbledore motioned for Harry to take his cloak off. He pulled it off and walked over to stand beside McGonagall.

“That evil goddamn woman…” McGonagall growled. She seemed to be on the verge of punching the wall, which was very unlike her.

“Do you have the lists?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, here.” McGonagall handed Dumbledore a list of at least 20 names. Professors Flitwick and Sprout handed him smaller lists, but they still had roughly ten names on them. Snape stepped forward as well and gave Dumbledore a small piece of parchment containing three names.

Dumbledore’s face grew chalk white and he started shaking, which utterly surprised Harry. What was more surprising was when the little whirring instruments around the room started shaking and exploding. Ten instruments exploded before Dumbledore regained control and calmed down. He didn’t stop shaking slightly.

“I had no idea she had harmed this many students. While I was extremely angry about her treatment of Harry, I never expected that incompetent bitch to harm nearly fifty students. You saw the words?” Dumbledore’s voice was shaking as well. Harry had never seen him so angry, let alone heard him swear or insult another professor.

All four professors nodded, all showing signs of surprise at Dumbledore’s outburst. Eve Snape looked surprised, though he quickly hid his surprised with the cool mask he always put in place.

“Well. I doubt the Minister will be able to deny this.” Dumbledore looked like he was barely containing his magic. He stood and started pacing behind his desk.

Professors Flitwick and Sprout seemed to calm down a bit after Umbridge left the room. They still looked angry, but nowhere near to the level they were when Umbridge was in the office. Snape looked as calm as ever.

McGonagall, on the other hand, was shaking slightly, her hands balled up into fists at her sides. Her mouth, instead of being pressed into a thin line like it usually was when she was angry or annoyed, was opened slightly in a snarl, which was very unlike her. She looked slightly mad.

While Harry was observing this, Snape walked over to Dumbledore and engaged him in a very quiet conversation. Flitwick and Sprout also broke into conversation. Harry moved a bit closer to McGonagall.

“Professor, are you all right?” he asked quietly.

“No, Potter, I’m not. That bitch has harmed over twenty of my Gryffindors without me finding out! Not only has she harmed multiple children under my care, she has also somehow made sure they haven’t told me, making me look like an incompetent Head of Gryffindor House!” she seemed like it was causing her a great deal of strain to whisper this, as not to cause attention to shift to them.

“We didn’t want to worry you, Professor.” Harry replied.

“It is my job to worry, Potter! You should have told me what was going on.” McGonagall bit back.

“I’m sorry, Professor McGonagall. I promise I will come to you if anything else happens. I just thought you and Professor Dumbledore had enough to be going on with, what with the fight against Voldemort and the Order and everything, that you didn’t need something as minor as this on your minds. I didn’t realize she had harmed as many students as she did. I’m sorry.” Harry responded.

“It’s quite all right, Harry. Thank you for the apology and you concern, but please, bother us with these things in the future. We want to know if you are being harmed, especially by part of this staff.” McGonagall seemed calmed a bit, but she was still shaking slightly.

“I will, Professor. Thank you.” Harry turned toward Dumbledore.

“Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I don’t think I’m needed here anymore. I should probably get to class, in any case, because my class with Umbridge is going to start soon and she’ll start asking more questions if I don’t show up. Let me know if you need me for inquiries or anything. Any of you. Thank you for your concern. May I leave?” Harry asked Dumbledore.

“Of course, Harry. You are dismissed. Thank you for trusting me with this information. I will get ahold of you if I need you for anything.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Harry turned and walked out of the office onto the spiral staircase. As he went down, he thought _maybe somebody cares after all._


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters used in this story, all recognizable names, locations, and characters are property of the wonderful JK Rowling, who was lovely enough to bless us with the Harry Potter books to become obsessed with as I have.

……

Blood Quill

……

Chapter 3

……..

As soon as Harry took his seat in Umbridge’s class, he held up his hand to Ron and Hermione.

“I’ll tell you guys later, not here.” He whispered to them.

“Mr. Potter,” Umbridge called across the room. “Whispering in class, I see. Ten points from Gryffindor. And another detention tonight I think.” Harry just looked at her for a moment before replying.

“I’m sorry, Professor. It wouldn’t happen again.” He said innocently.

Umbridge narrowed her eyes at him. “You seem to rather enjoy having points taken from your house, Mr. Potter. Do you not care about Gryffindor House at all?” Harry could tell she was trying to get him to argue with her, or snap at her, or anything that could give her the privilege of assigning him another week’s worth of detentions. He would not rise.

“Of course I do, Professor. But I won’t argue when points are taken for a good reason.” All the Gryffindors in the room turned around to stare at him with an angry expression, so he tried to give them a look that said, “don’t worry about it, I’ll explain later.”

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed again. “Right then.” She turned to the class as a whole. “Turn to page 58 and begin reading chapter 5. There will be no need to talk.” She swept up to her desk and settled herself in her chair, closely watching Harry.

Harry reached under the table and squeezed Hermione’s hand reassuringly before opening his book and starting to read.

........

“Professor, a word?” Harry was walking into the Great Hall for lunch beside McGonagall.

“Potter, we cannot discuss this here…” she started.

“I’ve gotten another detention. Tonight.” Harry interrupted.

“For what, Potter?!” McGonagall nearly yelled. “My office. Now.” She growled.

They made their way into McGonagall office, but neither sat down.

“I thought we made it clear that you were not to get her attention in any way today!” she yelled. Harry quickly shot a silencing charm toward the door so no one could overhear.

“I didn’t, Professor. She tried to get me to rise to her bait and do something that could land me with a week of detention, but I didn’t.” Harry responded.

“Then how did you land yourself with _another_ detention, Potter!” McGonagall yelled. Harry had a feeling not all of her anger was directed toward him.

“When I sat down I could tell Ron and Hermione were about to ask questions, so I whispered, “I’ll tell you guys later, not here.” She took ten points and gave me a detention for whispering a sentence to my friends. I was only trying to make sure she didn’t find out about everyone…well…finding out about this whole thing.” He gestured toward his hand.

“Well I guess I can’t fault you for that.” McGonagall sat down behind her desk wearily.

“There is a bright side to this, Professor.” Harry sat down in a chair opposite McGonagall.

“And what would that be?” McGonagall had her head in her hands, stress finally crumbling her normally calm and collected guise.

“You guys can catch her in action. You can show up in her office when I’m in detention. She doesn’t have any idea what’s going on, I assure you.” Harry replied.

“That doesn’t make this any easier, Potter. Just because this gives us an easy way to catch her doesn’t mean it makes you slicing your hand open worth it. Keep that in mind, won’t you?” came McGonagall’s weary reply.

“Yes, Professor.”

McGonagall sighed and sat up, leaning back in her chair. “It’s very stressful, caring about you, Potter.”

Harry snorted. “Maybe that’s why so few people do, Professor.” He replied.

“You’d be surprised, Harry.”

“Would I?”

“I can name quite a few people who care for you. Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Fred and George Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, your godfather, Remus Lupin, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Snape, yes, Professor Snape,” she added when Harry scoffed. “He cares about you as much as anyone else, Harry. I also care about you. You may not have a family that cares about you back at home, but I assure you that you do here.” McGonagall finished.

“Thank you, Professor. But I’m sorry that you all care about me. It’ll probably just get you all killed or injured in the future. It’s best if no one cares for me at all, that way Voldemort won’t hurt any of you.” Harry replied.

“I assure you, Harry, it’s worth it. Though I won’t deny that it’s rather stressful caring for you. You seem to attract every bit of danger possible.” She laughed a little at this.

“Not on purpose.” Harry replied.

“I didn’t say it was, Harry.” McGonagall stood from her chair, carefully putting her façade back in place. “We must go inform the Headmaster.”

“Won’t it cause suspicion if we are seen walking to the Headmaster’s office together twice in one day?” Harry asked.

“Probably. That’s why we’re going to use the floo.” McGonagall answered.

“Right.” Harry stepped toward the fireplace, but McGonagall held him back.

“I feel I should probably go first. It will be less suspicious, if there is anybody in Dumbledore’s office, if I showed up, being Deputy Headmistress. I will signal you if it is safe to come through.” With that, McGonagall threw floo powder into the fireplace, stepped in, and yelled “Headmaster’s office, Hogwarts!” She disappeared with a swirl of robes.

Harry sighed and sat down in a chair to wait for a signal. He hoped nobody was in the office, it would make things much more difficult if somebody, say Umbridge, was there when McGonagall flooed in.

Meanwhile, in Dumbledore’s office, McGonagall stepped forward out of the fireplace, brushing soot off her robes.

“Minerva, has something happened?” Dumbledore asked gravely. McGonagall’s eyes swept the room before resting on Dumbledore. As if reading her mind, Dumbledore said, “Nobody is here, Minerva.”

With that, McGonagall reached for the floo powder on the mantelpiece and threw it into the fire. She yelled for her office, but she only stuck her hand through, waving for Harry to arrive in the office. After a moment, there was a swirl of green flames and Harry stepped out of the fire, in a slightly less graceful manner than McGonagall had.

“What is it, Harry, Minerva?” Dumbledore asked gravely, standing from behind his desk.

“I’m fine, Professor. We just thought you should know that I was assigned another detention by Umbridge today in class. It’s tonight. We, well, I thought it would be a good opportunity to catch her in the act.” Harry answered.

“Harry, if you deliberately…” Dumbledore started.

“I didn’t get the detention on purpose, Professor. But when I got it, I thought it would be useful.” Harry interrupted.

Dumbledore sat back down behind his desk, leaning back in his chair with one hand on his chin.

“It may be, Harry, but that doesn’t mean I condone you getting detentions where you are forced to slice your hand open for hours on end.” Dumbledore responded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Albus, while I hate the idea of Harry having to slice his hand open repeatedly for this opportunity, we can use this. We need a plan.” McGonagall spoke up for the first time since Harry entered the office.

Dumbledore looked up. “Very well. Minerva, would you mind going to get Severus. I feel he should be involved in this, since he was here when everything…happened. Harry, would you stay a moment? I would like a word.”

McGonagall turned and marched out of the office in search of Snape, closing the door behind her. Once the office door was closed, Dumbledore spoke.

“May I see your hand, Harry? I didn’t get a very good look at it earlier.” Dumbledore asked.

A bit confused, Harry stepped around the desk, so he was beside Dumbledore, facing him. “Of course, sir.” He held out his hand.

Wordlessly, Dumbledore reached out and took Harry’s hand, being careful not to touch the cuts on the back. He turned it this way and that, examining the cuts in the strong relief cast by the sun outside.

After a few moments, Dumbledore dropped Harry’s hand, a look of disgust on his face. Without a word, Harry turned and moved back around the desk, taking a seat in one of the two chairs opposite.

After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore spoke.

“While I have no wish to argue with you on the topic of who is to blame for this, I must, once again, extend my apologies, Harry. While I may not be entirely to blame for this, it still happened in my school, to one of my students. I student I care about deeply, no less. So, I sincerely apologize that this has happened to you.” Dumbledore wasn’t meeting his eye.

“Apology accepted, sir.” Harry replied.

“Thank you, Harry. Now you should probably go to lunch. As I recall, you missed breakfast, so you’re probably hungry. In any case, Professors Snape and McGonagall will be back shortly, and we have much to do. Thank you for your time. You are dismissed.” Dumbledore nodded at Harry before standing to stroke Fawkes, who was on his stand.

Harry stood and walked over to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned back around.

“Professor?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Please, don’t do anything that could affect your job. Hogwarts needs you.”

Dumbledore paused for a moment before answering.

“I promise I will not jeopardize my job.” He paused again, just as Harry opened the door and made to walk out. “Thank you for your concern, Harry.”

Harry turned back around and nodded at Dumbledore, with a look that clearly said, “it’s no trouble sir, I mean it.”

After that, Harry turned and left the office, closing the door behind him.

……..

“What happened?” Ron whispered as soon as Harry had sat down beside him.

“They know. McGonagall found out, and she made me go tell Dumbledore. Snape was in the room when I told him. Now Sprout, Flitwick, and Madam Pomfrey know as well.” Harry whispered back, pulling steak-and-kidney pie onto his plate. “Turns out, nearly fifty students have had those…detentions…with her. Over twenty from Gryffindor, roughly ten from both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, and three from Slytherin.”

“What?!” Hermione exclaimed quietly.

“Yeah, I know. But I think McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Snape plan to…interrupt…my detention tonight. That’s all I should probably say now, Umbridge is no doubt watching us.” Harry finished.

“Right. Excited for practice this weekend? We’re gonna crush Slytherin next week!” Ron, thankfully, went into a rumbling speech about Quidditch. Harry could feel Umbridge’s eyes on his back.

Tonight’s detention was going to be rough. At least, until his other professors showed up.

……..

“Have fun, mate.” Ron said over his shoulder as Harry made his way to the portrait hole.

“Oh, good luck, Harry. I hope you don’t have to be there for long.” Hermione looked worried.

“I’ll be fine. See you guys later.” With that, Harry pushed open the portrait and made his way into the hallway. He slowly walked toward Umbridge’s office.

Sooner than he had hoped, he found himself outside of Umbridge’s office door. He knocked.

“Enter.” Came the girlish reply from within. “Ah, Mr. Potter.” She said as he walked in the room. “You know what to do.”

Harry made his way over to the little desk set up for him and picked up the blood quill. Without a glance at Umbridge, he began scrawling “I must not tell lies” onto the paper, refusing to wince or show any sign of pain as the skin on the back of his hand was torn open, blood seeping out and trickling down his wrist.

He went at this for an hour before he felt a slight disturbance in the magical atmosphere. Umbridge, grinning with glee at the pain she was causing Harry, didn’t notice. Harry knew things were about to go down, so he smirked to himself as he continued to write line after line on the paper.

After a moment, the office door burst open, and in walked Dumbledore, followed closely by McGonagall and Snape.

“Dumbledore, what is the meaning of…” Umbridge went white as a sheet when she realized what she had been caught doing.

“How dare you harm my students by forced use of a blood quill. You WILL pay for this, Dolores.” Dumbledore stated, cold fury etched into every line on his aged face.

While Dumbledore and McGonagall glared at Umbridge, trying to control themselves, Snape quietly grabbed Harry by the shoulders and stood him up. He gently grabbed Harry’s hand and examined it before slowly waving his wand over it.

“Severus, you have no right to do that! This child needs punished for spreading lies, I will not have you taking the pain away from him!” Umbridge screeched.

“Enough, woman.” Snape spoke for the first time. His voice, though calm, was laced with unimaginable anger “I don’t care if Potter killed your mother, nobody deserves to be forced to use a blood quill, especially by someone who is supposed to be helping them, someone who is supposed to be _teaching_ them. Your cruelty has gone far enough, especially when it comes to Potter. So, for Merlin’s sake, be quiet.” While Snape said this, he had turned to face Umbridge, still holding Harry’s hand. When he finished, he turned back and continued waving his wand over Harry’s hand, murmuring healing spells under his breath. He then conjured bandages and wrapped them around Harry’s now semi-healed wounds.

“I will not stand for this!” Umbridge screamed.

“ENOUGH!” McGonagall yelled. It was the first time she had spoken since she entered the office. She slowly advanced upon Umbridge, backing her against a wall. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and pointed it directly at Umbridge’s heart. Nobody moved to stop her. “For once in your life, you twisted, evil bitch, I suggest you shut the hell up.” She said quietly, rage burning in her eyes.

“I suggest you lower your wand, Minerva. I assure you, the Minister _will_ hear about this…” Umbridge started to protest.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake woman, do you think I care about the _Minister_ finding out that I pointed my wand at you?!” McGonagall yelled, lacing enough venom in the word “minister” that Harry nearly flinched. “You have been harming my students, illegally no less. Do you think your precious Minister will be able to get you out of this? Do you think you will be able to stay at Hogwarts, given the fact that you forced nearly fifty students to use a blood quill in your detentions? Me pointing my wand at you is _nothing_ compared to what you have done _Dolores_ , and I assure you I would use it if I didn’t want to see you punished for your crimes! You evil, evil woman…”

“Minerva…” Umbridge started. “You know Potter is a horrible boy, you know he deserves punished…”

“Even if Harry was a horrible boy, Dolores, which he is NOT, that DOESN’T mean he deserves to have his hand sliced open every night for two weeks!” McGonagall screamed. She was out of her mind with rage.

Fearful that McGonagall might actually hex Umbridge, Harry stepped forward and placed a hand on McGonagall’s arm.

“Professor…” he pleaded.

“Ha! See, Minerva, even the boy knows he deserves this!” Umbridge exclaimed triumphantly.

“I don’t think I deserve your treatment of me, _Professor_. What I think is that I rather like Professor McGonagall, and I don’t want her thrown into Azkaban for cursing you. While I would love to see you cursed, it is not worth Professor McGonagall, or Professors Dumbledore and Snape, for that matter, losing their jobs. You’re most certainly not worth losing some of the best professors in the school.” Harry snapped. “Evil bitch.” Harry muttered under his breath.

McGonagall, at Harry’s plea, and small compliment, backed up and stowed her wand away in her pocket, breathing rather deeply.

Umbridge stood up straight and glared at Harry.

“You’ve been spreading lies, boy! You deserved to be punished!” she yelled.

“I have _not_ been spreading lies, Professor! Voldemort is back! He killed Cedric last year, and he nearly killed me too! You and your precious Minister can deny things all you want, but _we_ know the truth and _we_ intend to stop him, whether the Ministry helps or not! And even if I _had_ been lying, that _doesn’t_ mean I deserve to slice my hand open every night!” Harry yelled. “You’re vile and cruel, Professor, and you deserve to be locked up in Azkaban.” He finished calmly.

Umbridge’s eyes bulged. “Potter…” she started to yell.

“ENOUGH!” Dumbledore yelled, interrupting Umbridge. “We have wasted enough time here. We are going to escort you to the Ministry to be tried for your crimes, Dolores.”

“You know I’ll get away with this, Dumbledore!” she yelled back.

“Maybe, Dolores, but you will certainly be taken from this school. There’s no way the Minister can deny the proof, and there is absolutely no way he will be able to keep you here.” Snape responded. He seemed tired, but Harry could detect the rage in his voice.

“Let’s go.” Dumbledore grabbed Umbridge’s arm roughly and started moving her toward the door, while everyone else followed. When they made their way into the hall, Harry turned to make his way back to Gryffindor Tower.

“Where are you going, Potter?” Snape snapped.

“Back to Gryffindor Tower, sir.” Harry responded, a bit confused.

“We need you to come with us to the Ministry. Your hand and memories of your detentions are evidence that we will need. Let’s go.” Snape turned and began following Dumbledore, Umbridge, and McGonagall once again.

Still a bit confused, Harry followed.

……..

“Harry, a word?” Dumbledore inquired, striding over toward the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall.

“Of course, sir.” Harry stood and followed Dumbledore out of the Great Hall to his office.

Once they got inside, Dumbledore motioned toward a seat in front of his desk.

“Have a seat, Harry. Professors McGonagall and Snape will be joining us shortly.

Harry sat and began looking around the room. It had been two weeks since Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape had interrupted his detention with Umbridge. He remembered, very vividly, how enraged McGonagall had been. He smirked a bit when he remembered the words McGonagall had screamed at her.

After a moment, McGonagall and Snape entered the office, taking seats in chairs surrounding Harry.

“What’s going on, Headmaster?” Snape inquired.

“Just thought I would update you three on everything. Dolores has been sent to Azkaban for a sentence of three years for the illegal abuse of children under her care. Even the Minister could not get her out of some sort of punishment.” Dumbledore explained. “I have also found a new professor to replace her. He will be joining us shortly.”

McGonagall was grinning at the thought of Umbridge in Azkaban. Snape looked thoughtful.

“Who will be replacing her, sir?” he asked.

“You will see in a moment, Severus. Have patience.” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling.

After a moment, the flames in the fireplace flashed green and in walked…

“Remus!” Harry jumped up and ran over to the man, hugging him around his waist.

“Hello, Harry!” Remus grinned as he hugged Harry back.

After a moment, he turned to Dumbledore. “Are you sure it is…wise…to appoint me as Defense teacher, Albus?” he asked.

“I’m sure there will be some protests Remus. However, there is no doubt in my mind that you have been the best Defense teacher here in a very long time, and I have no trouble reappointing you. I’m quite used to criticism.” Dumbledore replied lightly.

“You’re going to be my new Defense teacher?!” Harry asked excitedly.

“Remus chuckled. “It seems so, Harry.”

More excited than he had been in a while, harry leaned forward and hugged Remus again.

He couldn’t help but think, _maybe this will be a good year after all._


End file.
